Something More
by devilnblujeans
Summary: About a week after closing the hellmouth, Spike emerges from the rubble wanting to strangle the Powers That Be. B/S


Something More

Summary: About a week after closing the hellmouth, Spike emerges from the rubble wanting to strangle the Powers That Be.

Disclaimer:I own nothing, get paid for nothing, and am pretty much good for nothing... All the Buffy goodness belongs to Joss and whole lot of other people who are not me.

The songs "Sympathy for the Devil" and "Time is on my Side" belong to The Rolling Stones.

* * *

><p>Spike felt as if he had been walking for years, well, if you could call it walking. Actually, it was more like staggering, stumbling, crawling, and climbing.<p>

When he had originally awakened amidst the remains of the high school and the now closed hellmouth, he had realized the strangest thing… he was alive. Complete with breathing, heartbeat, and a pulse. His living state was confirmed when he broke through the debris to the surface and felt the sun shining down on his face. Cursing whatever Powers that had decided to play this cruel joke on him, he blanked out all thought and focused on the task at hand: making his way out of the crater that was now Sunnydale.

He finally made it to the cliff leading up and out of the crater and stopped to rest before trying to climb. As he sat down at its base, all the thoughts that he had pushed away started surfacing. Buffy. Did she make it? Where was she? What about the others, where they ok? How the bloody hell did this happen to him?

He closed his eyes and leaned his throbbing head on his bent knees and wrapped his arms around his legs. His whole body ached. He was scraped, bruised, cut, and sun burnt. His clothes were barely holding on by a thread, with the exception of his tattered combat boots, but they were threatening to fall apart too. This was worse than the beating Glory had given him.

After a few moments, he stood. Stretching his sore muscles, Spike looked up at the climb ahead of him. He chose a place that wasn't too steep and began to ascend.

Grab. Pull. Reach. Grab. Pull. Hand over hand. Foot over foot. Don't look down. Don't fall. Don't forget to breathe. He saw the top. Just a little further. Reach. Grab. Pull. He let out a sigh of relief as his left hand grasped the edge.

Hauling himself up, he rolled to a shady spot a few feet from the crater's edge. And everything went black.

* * *

><p><em>I love you.<em>

"BUFFY!" The anguished scream ripped from his throat as he woke up, gasping for breath. The first thing Spike noticed was that he wasn't outside anymore. Looking around, he took in the white walls, humming fluorescent lights, sterile equipment, and tubes and needles that were connected to his body. He pulled the needle from his arm and the tube from his nose. As he was struggling to stand, a portly brunette nurse came rushing to his side.

"Please sir," she said, softly yet firm, "you have to lay down."

At her urging, the blonde settled himself back on the bed as she gently replaced his oxygen tube and IV. When she finished, the nurse pushed a little red button beside the bed.

"Annie, could you call Dr. Shay and let him know that 218 is awake?" she asked.

"Sure thing," a cheerful, tinny voice replied.

The brunette smiled down at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was run over by a bus… repeatedly," Spike groaned, shifting a little to make himself more comfortable.

"The doctor should be here soon, but there is some information that I need from you while we're waiting." She picked up the clipboard that was hanging on the end of his bed. "Now, what's your name?"

"Sp-William."

"And your last name?"

"Pratt."

The nurse went on to ask about an address, phone number, insurance, and other information that he had no answers for. The doctor, a tall, slender, and slightly balding man walked in.

He examined Spike, asking him about what had happened. For the most part, Spike told him the truth; that he was in Sunnydale when the town crumbled to the ground and that he climbed out of the rubble.

Dr. Shay told him that a rescue crew had found him, almost dead, and brought him to the nearest hospital. He was in Bridgeton, a small town about half an hour away from what used to be Sunnydale. For the better part of two weeks, he had been unconscious, but he was healing fast. His bruises were already fading, as were his cuts.

"I want to keep you here for another day or so, for observation," Dr. Shay said in a soothing voice. "Is there anyone we can call for you?"

Spike thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, there is."

* * *

><p>Spike followed his sire, well, former sire, into the Hyperion. It was well past midnight. He could feel the anger radiating off of Angel in waves. The vampire had been like this from the moment he walked into his hospital room; sneering and asking all manner of questions, none of which Spike answered. Then he switched tactics, mentioning he hadn't heard from Buffy or any of the others, trying to get some sort of response from his childe. That bit of news just sent the blonde further into himself.<p>

Angel led him into a newly cleaned room. "If you need anything…"

Spike nodded, waiting for him to leave. As the door closed, he collapsed on the bed and rolled over onto his back. For the first time since immerging from the hellmouth, he allowed the tears to fall freely down his face. On the outside, he was silent, breathing shallowly as he stared at a fixed point on the ceiling. On the inside, though, on the inside he was screaming.

_Unlife was never fair, so why should things change now that I'm alive?_ he thought with a sobbing, humorless smile. Alive. He was _alive._ He had never asked for humanity, never wanted it. He liked being a vampire, loved it in fact. The power, the sensations, it was bloody marvelous.

His anger faded to sorrow… and fear. Spike was almost sure that if Buffy or any of the scoobies had made it out alive, they would have come here, to LA, to Angel. Even if it was just to let him know that they were ok. _I sacrificed myself, saved the world so she, so they all, could live._ And if she had gone back to her first love, his sire, his adversary, at least she'd be living.

Spike's eyes grew heavy and he turned onto his left side, curling his body into a tight ball. The last thing he saw as he drifted off into an exhausted slumber was a pair of bright, smiling hazel eyes.

* * *

><p>Spike was standing at the window of his room, his head tilted up as an errant sunbeam bathed his face in light. He had been here for almost a month, but rarely left his room. He felt so lost. And his soul, it felt so empty. As a vampire, he knew where he stood in life, or unlife as it were. But as a human, he was just… lost.<p>

His bedroom door opened. He knew who it was without even turning around.

"Hello Peaches." He closed the curtain and walked to the bed to sit down.

"Spike." Angel nodded a greeting.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he drawled.

Angel sat in chair across the room. "We need to talk."

"Right then. Talk."

The vampire sighed and got right to the point. "If you're going to stay here, you need to pull your weight."

Spike lifted a scarred brow.

"Look, you've been here for what, three weeks now? You're going to come and work for me, either in the office or in the field. I don't care what you do, but you have to get up off your ass." Angel looked at him pointedly.

"And if I refuse?"

The brunette stood. "You can't. You don't have a choice." He opened the door. "Be ready to go at sundown."

* * *

><p>"Hey Fangface! Over here," Spike called. The vampire lunged, and with a flick of his wrist, he was dust. He pulled another off of Gunn, making short work of him as his companion finished the last vamp.<p>

"Mission accomplished?" the blonde asked, lighting a cigarette.

Gunn nodded. "Now we report back to Wes."

"Goody," he said, with mock enthusiasm, taking a deep drag.

"Those things'll kill you." Gunn shouldered his crossbow and headed for his truck.

"You're point?" Spike asked, climbing into the passenger side.

Gunn just shook his head. "Never mind."

Spike stared out the window at the passing scenery. He had been working with Gunn for almost a week now. Since then, he realized he had maintained most of his vampiric abilities: strength, speed, enhanced hearing and sight, and rapid healing. When the group found out about this, Fred had wanted to run all kinds of tests on him. He just told her to sod off, growling at her, a growl that came out more kittenish and unthreatening than he intended, but she backed off all the same.

He did have to admit that he liked the gang that he was working with. They had accepted him into their little family, each trying in their own way to make him feel welcome. Even the poofter was being nicer to him. His initial anger seemed to have faded, and while he was still bitter about Spike being the ensouled vampire to become human, he was beginning to let it go.

Spike was finally finding his new place in the world.

* * *

><p>"Hey! Watch it, Peaches." Spike lifted his head to see Angel smiling sheepishly, lowering his sword. He dropped the decapitated corpse of Mr. Big-Slimy-And-Ugly.<p>

"I told you to duck." Angel shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, about a second before you swung," Spike sighed, grabbing the demon's arms. "Forget it, just get his legs and let's get out of here."

They tossed the Elsharg demon into the back of their black van and Angel went back to pick up the head. When he returned, Spike was already behind the wheel.

"Who's Connor?" he asked, backing the van out of the alley.

"Connor?" Angel repeated softly, his eyes getting a far away look in them.

"Yeah, heard you mention the name a few times. 'Bet Connor would love this,' or something like that after we beat the hell out of some demon or another."

Angel sighed needlessly, wondering if he should lie to the former vampire or confide in him. He decided that he was tired of lying. He needed to tell someone.

"He was my son," he stated tonelessly.

"Son? What, like another childe?" the blonde asked.

Angel shook his head. He explained about Darla being resurrected, then dusting herself to give birth to Connor, Wesley's treachery in giving the baby over to Holtz, and Connor's return from Quor'toth. Then there was Cordelia and Connor's "daughter."

"Now he lives in some suburban community with another family. He doesn't remember any of it, and neither does anyone else."

Spike parked the van behind their office building. Several workmen unloaded the demon's body and took it to the incinerator. "You know," he said, following the vampire through the back door, "I'm tired of dealing with the bloody Powers That Like to Screw With You."

Angel laughed sardonically. "Me too, Spike. Me too."

* * *

><p>Spike lifted his beer to his lips and tipped back the bottle, swallowing the last of its contents, and then set it back down on the bar. Motioning to the bartender, he ordered another beer.<p>

Beer in hand, Spike made his way back to his seat. Most of the gang had already called it a night, leaving only him and Angel. They fell into easy conversation, talking of their past together and the recent past. He finally broke down and told Angel about his last few minutes in the hellmouth, including his last, short conversation with Buffy. The vampire had taken it well. Angel had told him about Cordy, who was still in a coma, which explained why he hadn't beaten him to a bloody pulp over Buffy.

Buffy. Her memory still pulled at the strings of his now-beating heart. It had been six months since he last saw her, other than in his dreams. Six long and difficult months. Life without her was so hard. And although he knew better, he didn't think she was dead. He'd feel it if she were, right? He shook his head, forcing the thoughts down. He was supposed to be enjoying himself tonight; there would be time for reflection later, when he was alone in his bed.

"Hey there, Angelfood," a voice called from behind him. Spike saw his companion's face light up.

"Lorne," Angel replied with a smile, motioning for the newcomer to have a seat. "When did you get back?"

Spike glanced at the green demon, nodding in greeting.

"An hour ago. Who's the blonde?" Lorne asked, his gaze traveling over Spike's body.

"This is Spike, my childe. Spike this is Lorne, a good friend of mine."

"You mean former childe," the blonde added.

"No, you're still my childe, you always will be. I can still feel you," Angel said.

"Ah, this is the vampire turned human Wes was telling me about." He stared at Spike thoughtfully. Angel caught the look.

"Lorne is an empath demon. You sing, he tells your destiny."

"Isn't that… neat," the blonde drawled, lifting a brow.

"Yeah. Why don't you sing a few for us?" Lorne asked with a wry smile, and then muttered softly, "Just hope tone-deafness doesn't run in the family."

"What? Here?"

"Sure. Why not?" Angel encouraged. He was itching to see what Spike's future held.

"Anything? Doesn't matter what it is?"

Lorne nodded.

Spike glanced around at the bar's patrons. It was close to closing time, so there weren't many. He cleared his throat and smirked a little.

"The itchy, bitchy spider went up the water spout," he sang softly in an amused voice. "Down came the rain and killed the spider and he died," he finished with a slight growl. "How's that?"

Lorne wrinkled his brow. "Didn't get anything."

"Nothing?" Angel asked.

Lorne shook his head. "Try again, Spikey."

Spike scowledvand then thought for a second.

"'Please allow me to introduce myself,

I'm a man of wealth and taste.'"

He looked up at Lorne, who shook his head, urging the blonde on.

"'I've been around for a long, long year, stolen many man's soul and faith.'"

He stopped and again, Lorne shook his head.

"'I was around when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain.

Made damn sure that Pilate washed his hands and sealed his fate.

Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.'"

The green demon closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. _Well, at least the boy can sing._ "I'm not getting anything." He sighed. "I know I'm going to regret this, but Angel, humor me please?"

Angel cleared his throat and took an unneeded breath. "Time is on my side…'" he belted out.

Lorne cut him off. "Stop, stop." He made a face. "It's just Spike. I can't read him."

"What, I ain't got no future? 'Am I going to die?" Spike asked.

"No, if you were, I would see it." Lorne said as he sipped his cocktail.

They sat in silence, none of them knowing what to say. Finally, the vampire stood.

"Well, it's getting late. I'll get Wes to look into this tomorrow. We should get going."

They made their way back to the Hyperion. When he got there, Spike went straight to his room, throwing a careless "G'nite" over his shoulder. He stripped and sank into bed, thinking about the fact that it seemed he had no future. The blonde was trying to reason it out, fighting sleep, but fatigue and alcohol won, and he slipped off into a deep slumber.

"Spike," he heard a voice calling to him softly.

"What?" he called out grouchily. He opened one eye, searching for the voice's owner. At the sight of her, he sat up in bed, his blanket falling to his waist. "Joyce?" he asked, not believing his eyes.

She smiled at him, nodding.

"'Am I dreaming?"

"Actually, yes, you are." She sat down on the edge of his bed. He was about to jump up and pull her into a hug when he remembered that he was naked under the blanket. He blushed violently.

She smiled wider at him, seeming to read his mind. "It's ok, I'm not peeking," Joyce said as she pulled him into a loose hug.

"I've missed you," he whispered into her hair, then pulled back.

"I've been watching over you, and I'm not the only one."

"I can explain…" His eyes widened at the thought of Joyce seeing him and her daughter together.

"Not that," she chuckled, "although I'd like to thank you for what you did for my daughter. And so would they. That's why I'm here, to explain some things."

"Like what?" he asked, reeling.

"Lorne tried to read you tonight, but didn't get anything. There's a reason for that." She saw his face start to pale. "It's nothing bad; this is The Powers' way of thanking you for your sacrifice. From now on, you are choosing your own destiny. No one is going to meddle with your life anymore."

Spike sighed in relief. "And I thought I was going to die."

"Well, eventually you will, everyone does, and you're human now, so…" she trailed off. He nodded. Joyce stood as a bright white light enveloped the room. "I have to go now."

"Wait! What about Buffy? How is she? Where is she?" Spike called out, jumping to his feet, heedless of his naked state. Joyce just smiled secretively as she disappeared into the light.

Spike jerked upright in bed. He looked around the room, bewildered. The dream seemed so real. Then he noticed the faint smell of Joyce's perfume still lingering in his room. Maybe it wasn't just a dream.

The blonde shot up out of bed, hastily pulling on the pair of pants he had recently discarded. He rushed down the stairs, relieved to find Angel and Lorne still awake.

Angel looked up, taking in Spike's astonished expression. "What's wrong?"

Spike took a deep breath and told them everything that had just happened.

"Well? What do you think?" he asked when he finished.

"It makes sense, but… is that possible?" Angel asked. "I thought everyone had a destiny, some path that's been predetermined."

"Well, technically, you've played out two paths, dying twice; once when you became a vampire and then when you became human," Lorne said to Spike. "So, yeah, it does make sense." He wrinkled his nose, saying, "This is going to bother me though, not being able to read you."

Spike smiled genuinely. "I get to choose my own destiny. I like the sound of that."

"So," Angel said, looking over at his childe, "what do you want to do?"

* * *

><p>Spike had decided to stay. For more than three years he had been fighting demons. Granted, at first it was because demons were the only things he could fight. Then it was because of Buffy. It wasn't until recently that he had begun to fight because he thought it was the right thing to do. But it didn't matter. This was his life, the only thing he knew how to do; the only thing he wanted to do.<p>

"Bloody hell," the blonde moaned. He, Angel and Gunn were surrounded. They had been investigating rumors of a demon nest in an old warehouse, expecting it to be just that, a rumor. Now the small room they were trapped in was swarming with blue and green lizard-like demons.

"Ok, Blondie, pay up," Gunn said as he scanned the room for a way out.

"Pay up?" Spike asked incredulously.

"Yeah, you bet me twenty bucks that it was vampires, not demons. Now pay up."

"How about we settle up if we get out of here?" Spike offered as he watched the demons close in on them.

"How about we just focus on the getting out part?" Angel yelled over his shoulder as he made the first move, swinging his sword in a deadly arch that decapitated two of their attackers. Spike jumped into the fray, deftly bringing his axe down to split the skull of another. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw Gunn slice another demon in half.

"You see a way out yet?" he shouted to Gunn over the screaming of their victims.

"Not from here," he yelled back.

The battle raged on. For every demon they killed, another entered the room. Spike hissed when he felt razor-sharp claws slashing into his back. With renewed energy and anger, he turned to brutally lop off the head of his attacker.

"I think the cavalry's here," Gunn hollered, nodding towards the door.

The blonde threw a glance over to where his companion indicated and gasped.

* * *

><p>Spike's eyes locked with the same hazel orbs that he had been dreaming of for almost a year now. He tore his gaze away and fought his way to her, hacking at demons left and right. At Buffy's side, they battled on, assisting each other when it was needed<p>

_Just like old times_, he thought as he decapitated another demon.

Their opponent's numbers dwindled. He watched as Buffy took out the last one. It fell to the ground, taking her broadsword with it. She took a deep breath and turned to look at him with questioning eyes. The silence was excruciating. A single tear rolled down her grimy cheek and she launched herself at him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Spike let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding; it came out in a strangled sob. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, not wanting to ever let her go. He savored the feel of her, something he didn't think to feel again. She clung to him even tighter, burying her head against his chest.

"Buffy," he choked, "need too… breathe." She loosened her hold on him, but stayed in the same position. He sighed and dipped his head to plant a small kiss on the top of her head, then looked up. The room was empty save the two of them.

The diminutive blonde in his arms pulled back, gazing at him inquisitively. "You have a heartbeat," Buffy said, laying a hand on his chest.

He smirked. "Yeah. And I have to breathe too, or didn't you catch that one?"

"How?"

"It's a long story, pet."

* * *

><p>"That's… wow," Buffy said, words evading her. They were all in the lobby of the Hyperion, Spike sitting between her and Dawn. Wesley had just explained the Shanshu prophecy to their newcomers, who included Buffy, Dawn, and about ten teenaged girls that Spike didn't recognize, but were obviously slayers.<p>

"Well, you must have quite a story yourself, pet, being here and all," he commented.

She nodded. "We were tracking some demons that escaped from another hellmouth. That and we came to open a branch of the slayer training school here in LA. Giles thought Wesley might like to help with that," Buffy added, looking up at the ex-watcher. He nodded, smiling.

Dawn was explaining how they had gone to Cleveland, where there was another hellmouth, when the telephone rang. She went on to tell them that Giles had somehow 'inherited' the money from the Watcher's Council.

"So, now we have plenty of money to…"

"Cordy's awake!" Fred's cry cut her off.

The LA gang, sans Spike and Angel, jumped up, rushing out the door. Sire and childe shared a brief look. Spike nodded.

The vampire turned to Buffy. "I have to be there for her," he said, his voice full of emotion. "Spike'll help you all find rooms. And Buffy," he added quietly, "I think you're finished baking."

She smiled, nodding her head. "I think you're right." He gave her a quick smile, then hurried out the door.

"Baking?" Spike inquired wryly, quirking his brow as he led them all upstairs.

She nodded. "I'll explain it to you later."

He pointed out the rooms that were taken and the ones that were still being renovated, letting them choose their own. Buffy and Dawn chose the one across from his and carried their bags inside.

Spike went to his room, closing the door softly and leaning against it. He sighed. She was alive. He smiled as tears came to his eyes. A soft knock penetrated his reverie. Pushing away, he opened the door to reveal his slayer. She walked in and shut the door.

"Buffy, I…"

She cut him off.

"Shh, don't say anything." She leaned up, brushing his lips softly with her own. Spike closed his eyes, groaning as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue plundered his mouth, seeking to reacquaint itself with his. Buffy pulled away, panting.

"I want you to know," she said breathlessly, "what I said was true. I love you. I have for a long time, it just took me a while to realize it."

He smiled down at her. Spike had believed it the first time she had told him, but he needed her to get out of the hellmouth. He relished the fact that she was telling him again. Crushing his lips to hers, he kissed her desperately and lifted her off her feet.

They finally broke apart and he opened his eyes. She was regarding him with a strange expression.

"Buffy?"

"I was just wondering if this was just a dream… if I was going to wake up."

"It's not a dream, pet," he reassured her, his expression still full of wonder and love.

"Definitely cookies," Spike heard her say before she grasped his shoulders, pulling him down for a slow, lingering kiss.

End

08/09/2003


End file.
